


Taking a Plunge

by SuiteJayne



Category: James Bond (Classic movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Thunderball, canon-typical ridiculous sexual innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:41:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27720868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuiteJayne/pseuds/SuiteJayne
Summary: What James Bond and Felix Leiter get up to just before the climax of Thunderball.
Relationships: James Bond/Felix Leiter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	Taking a Plunge

**Author's Note:**

> The short scene that prompted this ficlet and from which I stole the first two lines of dialogue is at minutes 7:58-8:18 of [this clip from Thunderball](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ziag9cz97mo&ab_channel=SamDJ). (Let's all just ignore Felix's unfortunate hat.) For a sexier look, you might want to revisit this scene with Felix from earlier in the movie: [minutes 6:37-8:00](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-zjB9ZlmKTs&list=PLerY8Ej70ZTfpAFnRU8-Wx98PaMBbpL30&index=7&ab_channel=SamDJ).

“And the kitchen sink,” Bond grumbled as Leiter handed him the souped-up scuba tank he’d wear on the dive. They were ten minutes out from the site where Bond would join a crack team of divers to avert SPECTRE’s planned nuclear strike on Miami. The helicopter soared over impossibly clear waters, the sandy bottom visible, giving the ocean a deceptively shallow appearance.

“On you, everything looks good,” Leiter said with a half-smile, teasing and consoling at the same time. Their eyes met and something flared briefly in Bond’s gaze--that unspoken _something_ that so often made the air between the two friends seem to shimmer with heat. 

Bond opened his mouth as if to reply, but instead he broke eye contact and studiously adjusted the straps of his harness. 

“Damn it,” he said. “This bit of tubing is caught on something. I can’t have it get a kink--”

“No kinks here,” Leiter said, quickly stepping closer to locate the problem. “We’ll get it straight.”

Bond darted a glance at Leiter.

“If you say so," he said, cocking an eyebrow. Leiter's stomach did a little twist. He relieved Bond of the heavy tank again.

“Let’s start over,” said Leiter, undoing the buckles of Bond's harness and starting to tug it off Bond's shoulders. “Oh, this webbing got trapped in your zipper," Leiter said. "I’ll just--”

Leiter stepped in close--very close--and started to draw down the zipper of Bond’s wetsuit. The neoprene fabric clung to his arms and torso, making him look like some sleek, but dangerous, aquatic mammal--an orca, perhaps. 

Leiter was close enough to feel Bond’s breath on his cheek. He managed to free the trapped fabric and stepped back half a pace, allowing his hands to trail over Bond’s collarbone and shoulders before sliding them under the straps of the harness and slipping it off Bond's shoulders. Leiter’s gaze flicked down to the triangle of tan skin with its dark curls of hair left exposed where Bond’s wetsuit was unzipped. He put the harness aside on the floor of the helicopter. When he raised his eyes to Bond's again that _something_ was back: Bond’s clear brown eyes mirrored Leiter’s own desire. 

“There, that’s done,” Leiter said after a long moment. He turned around and bent to pick up a piece of equipment, but when he straightened up, Leiter felt Bond behind him, Bond’s chest brushing his back and Bond's hands on his upper arms.

“Thank you, Felix,” Bond murmured in Leiter’s ear. “This part is harder than it looks.”

“Which part?" Leiter stammered. "Oh--getting it on, you mean." He cleared his throat. "The equipment, that is."

Bond turned Leiter bodily by the shoulders.

“Exactly,” he said, his eyes boring holes in Leiter’s. “The equipment. Was there anything else you wanted to help me with?”

Leiter could feel his heart pounding against his sternum. Bond’s hands were warm on his shoulders. He reached up to Bond's wetsuit zipper and started to pull. The tiny teeth unlocked, revealing more of Bond’s skin. Bond said nothing; he didn’t stop him, didn’t yank the zipper back up, didn’t step back and push Leiter away. 

Leiter grew bolder, closed in and pushed his left hand under the neoprene as his right hand slid the zipper down, down, down. Bond was taller than him; Leiter’s gaze was at the level of Bond’s mouth. He leaned in slightly and let his lips just graze the base of Bond’s neck where it met his shoulders, dragged his mouth along Bond’s collarbone, let his tongue slide out and tasted salt on Bond’s skin. Bond shivered. Leiter reached the bottom of the zipper.

All at once Leiter grabbed the sides of the wetsuit and dragged them down off Bond’s shoulders, leaving his arms inside so that they were effectively trapped at his sides, but giving the fabric enough play so that Leiter could reach inside and free Bond’s cock. It was hardening rapidly, and Leiter dropped to his knees before he could lose his nerve and grabbed it with his right hand, hearing Bond suck in air above him. Now Leiter looked up at his friend again. His eyes traveled up Bond's torso, with its ripples of muscle faintly visible under bronzed skin, till they reached Bond's face. He was focused on Leiter with an intensity Leiter had only seen before when Bond was lining up a shot. His lips were just parted; his tongue darted out to lick his upper lip. Leiter smiled slowly; he'd thought about this, more than he cared to admit even to himself. But Bond wanted it too. He wanted it so much.

Leiter took Bond’s cock into his mouth, caressing the underside with the flat of his tongue then swirling his tongue around the head. He drove it deeper into his mouth and felt the head hit the back of his throat. Bond moaned, his arms still pinned at his sides, struggling in their neoprene restraints. His erection was impossibly hard now; Leiter began to bob his head in a slow rhythm, forcing Bond deep into his throat and letting him slide slowly out again until Leiter was just lapping at the head again, tasting a hint of precome on his tongue. He glanced up on one of the upstrokes; Bond’s whole body was taut, quivering like the string of a bow. His face wore an expression almost of agony, his eyes screwed shut now and sweat beading on his forehead. Leiter reveled in the sensation of having power over this incandescently confident man, of taming this force of nature, of finally fanning the sparks of attraction they’d had for each other over the years until they blazed up. His own erection felt uncomfortably constrained by his clothing, but he couldn’t spare a thought for that now, and somehow the frustration increased his arousal.

Soon Leiter could feel the tension in Bond’s body building; he gripped the base of Bond’s cock firmly and moved faster and with purpose, starting a gentle suction that drew a low groan from Bond. Suddenly Bond extracted one arm from the wetsuit and threaded his fingers through Felix's thick shock of graying hair.

“Felix--” 

Bond’s faint Scottish brogue intensified in a moment of passion, Leiter noted. He hummed around Bond’s cock, encouraging him. _Go ahead._ Bond came with a cry and pulled Leiter’s hair hard. The sensation almost brought Leiter off untouched. He swallowed Bond’s semen, let his cock slowly slide out of his mouth. Then he raised his eyes almost shyly.

Bond let go Leiter’s hair and drew his hand across his own forehead. He grinned down at Leiter, offered him that same hand and helped him to his feet. Leiter wiped saliva from his lips with the back of his hand. Bond put his hands on Leiter’s waist, but Leiter pushed them off.

“Let’s get you ready to go, James,” he said. “We’re almost there.”

“Yes, but--are _you_ almost there?”

“Close, but no cigar.”

“Hardly seems fair.”

“Well, you’ve got a different job to do right now.”

Bond chuckled and allowed Leiter to zip him back into his wetsuit and begin reassembling his gear. They managed to equip him without a hitch this time, and all too soon, Bond was standing in the open door of the helicopter, waiting to dive.

“Be careful of these SPECTRE guys, James,” Leiter said, putting a hand on Bond’s shoulder. “You’re in deep.”

“I was until a moment ago, anyway.” Bond said dryly, turning to Leiter and placing his own hand on Leiter’s bicep. Leiter couldn’t quite repress a grin.

“I mean it, James,” he continued. “It’s too dangerous. I almost don’t like you going alone.”

“Does that mean you’ll come next time?” Bond asked with a raised eyebrow. Leiter smirked.

“Oh, I fully intend to.”

“Good, because I don’t like to leave loose ends,” said Bond casually, pretending to brush a speck of dust off Leiter’s shoulder. “I’m in her majesty's secret service, after all. Emphasis on _service_.”

“And I’ve no doubt you’re a skilled member.”

“I’ve never had any complaints.” 

Leiter smiled.

“Just...take care of yourself, James,” he said. Bond put his scuba mask on and dropped into the water with a nonchalant OK sign. 

“And make sure you come back in one piece…!” Leiter couldn't help shouting after him over the noise of the helicopter. He watched Bond sink into the blue and finished his thought silently.

_So I can take you apart myself._

**Author's Note:**

> Now updated with new, marginally better title! I had previously called it "A Dip in the Ocean" but I felt like that implied swimming or beaches. I dunno. Titles are hard.
> 
> Note on suspension of disbelief: there's no way they could stand up straight in the helicopter. However, I felt it spoiled the mood when I attempted to describe them stooping over, sitting down, etc. I'm just pretending this helicopter has extra high ceilings, as well as an amazing pilot, so it's a super smooth ride. : )


End file.
